If you are determined to argue that those mandated reporting figures -- assembled last week by The Washington Post -- realistically measure the incidence of sexual assault on these two Oregon campuses, you believe the following:

In 2012, Reed -- which has a student body of 1,400 -- had 14 on-campus assaults.

The University of Oregon, with 20 times as many students, had 17.

A far more likely scenario? On one of these campuses, women are better schooled on how to report sexual assault, and much better supported when they do.

As Henry Lorenzen, former president of the State Board of Higher Ed in Oregon, told us in 2011, "This is an epidemic on campuses."

And Reed finally confronted the crisis after Lee van der Voo at InvestigateWest revealed that three Reed students were discouraged from calling police after they reported sexual assault to university officials.

As I wrote in November 2011, "Those cases were referred, instead, to a student Judicial Board for 'honor principle' proceedings that served as a virtual gag order on the victims, one Reed eventually conceded was in clear violation of federal law."

Reed College officials didn't waste valuable time playing defense three years ago. "We were caught flat-footed," conceded Mike Brody, dean of student services, noting that students were "the catalysts for change.

"This was a huge personal awakening, and I have those students to thank for that. This place will never be the same. And that's a positive thing. We needed a wake-up call, and we got one."

Kevin Myers, the director of strategic communications, was similarly forthcoming this week after the Post's round-up of sexual-assault numbers -- required reporting by the Department of Education -- listed Reed with the third-highest rate in the country.

"To change, you have to admit you got it wrong," Myers said. Reed needed to hire Jyl Shaffer -- since replaced by Rowan Frost -- as assistant dean for sexual assault prevention and response.

Reed needed to better educate its students about the meaning of consent, given that 89 of the assaults over the last four years involve people who are either dating or who know one another.

"You're creating an environment where people are comfortable in coming forward," Myers said. "And when you do that, those numbers are going up."

How is that creative process going at Oregon in the aftermath of its wake-up call, the incendiary allegations of sexual assault against three former basketball players?

Given the bunker mentality in Eugene, that's hard to say. Robin Holmes, the vice president for student affairs, agreed that sexual assault has been under-reported at UO. She argued, however, that the university's progress in confronting the problem is better reflected by "well over 200" other contacts with students about incidents that didn't rise to the level of assault.

I'd argue UO is sending out mixed messages. When UO psychology professor Jennifer Freyd proposed a survey that might accurately reflect sexual violence on campus, it was rejected, with both Holmes and spokesman Rita Radostitz claiming Freyd's personal opinions would "bias" the results.

At the same time, Gary Granger, the director of community safety at Reed, reached out to Freyd after hearing her speak on OPB, asking if she'd be willing to work with him on the issue.

"While I believe we have a solid response that is compassionate, thorough, fair, and vigorous," Granger wrote, "I want to stop seeing young women (almost always) crying in my office as they struggle to describe what has happened to them."

University boosters need to get over what Frost calls that "element of magical thinking" that blames sexual predation on the victim: "Rape is so horrific ... (that) we find ways to justify the bad things that happen to other people so we can pretend we aren't at risk for those bad things happening to us."

And administrators must decide, as Brody did, "This place will never be the same."